


Religion For The Pragmatic

by shewhoguards



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Gen, Gods, Missing Scene, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 19:31:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7235659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewhoguards/pseuds/shewhoguards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Eddis could explain to Sophos why she was willing to swear loyalty to Attolia, she first had to explain it to Attolia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Religion For The Pragmatic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cinaed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/gifts).



“Eugenides tells me that Eddis wishes to swear to Attolia. I need to know why.”

From necessity the question was asked privately, in the rooms Eddis had been offered as an honoured guest rather than in a more public location. It would not do for word of this to leak before it was confirmed, one way or another. Still, there was no informality in Attolia’s tone, no sign of the cautious friendship which had begun to bloom between the pair. As a queen she needed to know, so she asked it in a queenly way.

She could see Eddis hesitate, and it was difficult not to conclude that the younger queen was searching for a lie. Attolia braced herself for whatever deceit was likely to be offered – though she might have hoped that her own husband wouldn’t cooperate with such, it was always difficult to tell with Eugenides.

“Let me explain,” Eddis said finally, and Attolia forced herself to listen without interrupting. She had expected perhaps a tale of how Eddis had lost her heart to the young king of Sounis, that perhaps she hoped that by offering this of her own volition the two rulers of Attolia would not see the union as a threat and turn her suggestion down. She had not expected a dream of volcanoes.

 “You expect me to believe this?” she asked when the story had come to an end. “That you would do this for the sake of a dream?”

Eddis looked at her steadily. “How long did it take you to clear the glass before your marriage?” she asked.  “Who told you how to catch Eugenides? You may not like it, but that is not the same as not believing it.”

Attolia was too well-trained to grimace, but she was silent for a moment before she spoke. “There is a difference between trying not to offend the gods and falling too easily into line,” she suggested finally. “I find it difficult to believe you would offer this so readily.”

 “It is less readily than you might think,” Eddis admitted, a note of weariness in her tone. “I have spent enough nights awake and trying to think of an alternative; one that did not involve telling the people of Eddis outright that their gods walk among them. But I see no other options, so there it is. Were it your people—“

“Were it my people I would find another way!” Attolia found herself angered by even the suggestion.

“And yet you agreed to marry Eugenides against your will only if your people were safe and fed,” Eddis reminded her, and stretched, as though doing so might shake the tiredness from her mind as well as from her body. “And I dare say that had things fallen another way, I might have agreed to a similar arrangement with Sounis – the old Sounis. When there are no more choices, you protect your people first.”

“There are always choices,” Attolia said grimly. “Even if sometimes it is the choice of waiting until you can slip poison into a cup. This isn’t you ceding control to us, it’s ceding control to them. I don’t like it.”

Eddis looked shocked for only a moment before she laughed. “Good luck in poisoning the gods,” she said. “Though I suppose if all else failed Gen could try stealing your country back from them.” More gently, she added, “Just because they warn of a volcano doesn’t mean that they put it there. You may be searching too hard for an enemy.”

“Perhaps,” Attolia conceded. “And yet they’ve been prepared to sacrifice a great deal on our behalf to get to this point, without seeking our consent first. Arranging for Eugenides to be caught is something I have never been able to overlook for a start, but have you considered also that you had brothers once?”

Eddis’ smile faded. “I did,” she agreed. “But—“

“I wonder if perhaps the gods thought that they might be less likely to listen to dreams of volcanoes,” Attolia cut her off mercilessly. “Just as I might look at a Baron and consider that he might be likely to betray me if the payment was right, but find his son far more pliable.” Her tone was severe, teacher of a painful lesson. “And I might be right, but if his son were ever to find out – I wouldn’t expect to consider him my ally any more after that.”

The silence stretched painfully for a few minutes before Eddis sighed. “You can listen to the one bearing a message and believe them, without necessarily considering them your friend,” she offered quietly, and for a moment – a long still moment – her gaze rested on the other woman’s earrings. “Sometimes those we choose as allies are, from necessity, those who have previously been our enemy.”

“And for the moment I will accept that,” Attolia agreed, her voice equally quiet. “But one day Attolia and Eddis may have heirs and if they—“ She stopped, cleared her throat, and seemed to need to rephrase what she wanted to say. “If there are _ever_ any strange accidents, if there is even a thought that those children are disposable because their sibling was easier, if—“ Usually possessed of an unbreakable calm, she seemed to be struggling to get the words out.

Eddis looked at her, noting the way the other woman unconsciously moved her arm as though to block off her stomach, and understood. “Have you spoken to Gen about this?” Seldom did the two queens speak to each other in tones as gentle. Seldom was such gentleness ever needed.

Attolia laughed sharply, painfully, and shook her head. “How do you suggest to a man that one day his gods may require more than just his arm? And discovering that alone nearly broke him.”

“And perhaps just the knowing that we would know and would react accordingly would be enough to prevent such an event,” Eddis mused. She shook her head. “I am not sure that anyone has ever considered the viability of war against the gods.”

“You will go on with them even knowing that they took your brothers?” Attolia asked.

“As I go on with the queen who took my cousin’s arm.” There was no reproof in her voice, Eddis was calmly matter of fact. “So. Would you accept Eddis’ vow?”

“Would you make it, knowing that one day I might use it to ask your country to go to war against their gods?” Attolia countered. “Viable or no.” She shook her head, clearly expecting Eddis’ refusal. “I will not stand by and watch anyone threaten those who belong to me – _my_ country, _my_ people, _my_ children – without placing everything I have in their way to stop them. Even if they are gods.” It was a hard and unpleasant truth, but Attoila knew that suspicion was survival and Eddis had to learn that fact now, even if gods were involved. Especially if gods were involved and she wanted the words spoken aloud as a challenge to any deities listening. Otherwise where would it end?

"But they are the gods.." Eddis said and Attolia shook her head.

   

 "They are. And they have our worship," she said thinking of a temple bought with a blood-price and one long terrifying night of broken glass. "I will agree to temples, I will even pay them tribute. But some things are not tribute, and I will not offer them as such. My husband may feel at ease with a god who may choose to drop him on a whim, but _I_ say that if I suspect harm done to my children I would consider that an act of war and react appropriately.”

“Gen’s children,” Eddis reminded her. “Which makes them my family too.” She was quiet a moment, considering her words. Some things were not to be spoken of lightly, some agreements could not be made without deep consideration. “And the answer is yes.”

Attolia raised an eyebrow. “War on your own gods?”

“On gods  who had shown they were a threat to your children and who would therefore surely be an equal threat to mine?” Eddis said. “Yes. Though I hope it never comes to it.”

“Yes,” Attolia echoed and let out a long breath of relief. “As do I.”

“You will accept when Sounis asks your permission to wed me?” Eddis asked, her tone very calm considering how much depended on the answer. Still, she breathed her own sigh of relief when Attolia replied.  

“Yes.”

Later, it would need to be formalised. The official reason given would involve Eddis’ marriage to Sounis, and a lot of talk about the strength of alliances and the need for all their countries to be secure against the Mede. Neither woman would speak of this again, and yet, in later years when their bellies rounded and the talk was of kings, queens and inheritance both would remember it.

Some things were worth offending the gods for.

 


End file.
